


Rose Garden

by Keitmeg



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Castle of Fallen Kings, Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur, Gen, Jealous Arthur Pendragon, Oblivious Merlin, Possessive Arthur Pendragon, naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitmeg/pseuds/Keitmeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your highness.” Percival puffs out his chest with all the respect he can muster giving the circumstances, because he knows that spying on the prince’s servant as he bathes does not really leave any good impressions, “it seems your servant takes well to remote sites, I do not know if it is brave or plain stupidity.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Typos are mine, con-cri is welcomed.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

**W** ithin the ruins of this ancient castle that was once ruled by Camelot, Merlin finds a clearing through the dilapidated halls and the cavernous corridor, surrounded by a rose garden.

He couldn’t possibly keep his curiosity to himself knowing that their kingdom inside its citadel was burning and Morgana has proclaimed it as hers after revealing the hideous truth she was so skillfully trying to seal, but now that the odds are in her favor with Morgause by her side, she no longer cared. So merlin figured what was one more disaster if some sort of creature turned out to be in the next corner. But the flowery space has proven him wrong because repulsive monsters and whatnot do not plant flowers –or water them constantly for that matter. They rather prefer dreadful, vile, dark and even horrid places over illuminated, bright and all together heartwarming ones like this. So Merlin knows, he knows he is safe here.

He approaches the inviting clearing with careful steps. Better safe than sorry he’s concluded despite the danger-free state his mind and the garden have offered. The floral aroma, mingled with hints of a pungent taste collides with him head-on when a breezy wind shies away from the intruder. Merlin’s eyes widen fleetingly at the sight of the pond fountain glittering under the radiant rays of the sun. It isn’t exactly a fountain considering it’s only a narrow slot providing water to the pond underneath, but it’s not every day you see something this beautiful, and Merlin appreciates things of beauty. He glances around fervently when a few far-off birds flutter their winds in the distance, and another glance to the castle’s inner curtain walls tells him that not long ago this used to be the ward. Behind him, the keep where his companions are taking a breather at from the unjust fleeing is still standing, providing shelter still.

He crouches down, the burble of the water flowing coaxes him closer, and when he dips his delicate fingers into the water, its pressure satisfies him.

At the keep, Guinevere and her brother Elyan are tending to Gaius and doing their best to make him feel comfortable however they can with the very few resources they have, all the while, they share concern for each other and even reminisce in memories from old time, before their father was executed by a ruthless command of Uther the king. Arthur, the king’s son, and Leon are nursing their goblets of wine on the round table, sighing at the mere mention of devising a proper plan to save the king and everyone because they know it is never going to be easy. None of them can still believe any of this, either Cenred’s immortal army -which they still have no idea how to put a stop to- wreaking havoc back in Camelot, or Uther’s imprisonment in the dingy dungeons that isn’t really worthy of his title as the king despite how cruel he always tends to be, or even Morgana’s unforgivable treason. But they have lived through bad days before and they made it out just fine, so there is still hope that this time is no different.

Next to one of the mullioned windows aligning the wall, the recently-tilted-knights, Lancelot, Gwaine and Percival are exchanging words and strengthening their knowledge of each other. Each is speaking of how fate has lead him to here with different people but all equal in importance, strength and courage. And only when they share a laugh after one of Gwaine’s quirky jokes about bad situations with heads sloshed with wine does Lancelot notice Merlin’s disappearance, and it seems his worry has shown on his face because the next thing he knows, Gwaine is resting a marble hand on his shoulder, nodding towards the window before them. The three men peer through the window down at the ward and can finally discern Merlin’s shape amidst the rosy outline. Percival has never been acquainted with the boy until today, he’s heard great things of him from Lancelot and at some point he grew interested to meet him, but he understands he must hold a dear place in the two men’s heart because he sees how their faces delight with relief and joy at the same time after they spot him. He stares at Lancelot in bewilderment because he, with all honestly, has never seen that look on his face before. He stares at him narrowly, studying this new found expression when it suddenly morphs into embarrassment as a flush spreads across his cheeks. Perplexed, Percival looks over at Gwaine and furrows at the conspicuous and long-lasting smile, a part of him realizes that this man is always like this, but something about that smirk and those eyebrows wiggling conspicuously tells Percival that something really enjoyable is happening down at the ward and he wants in, whatever that is making these two men act like foolish teenagers, he wants to be part of it, too. So he bends just slightly to look out the window and the three are cramming up since the mullioned window can allow only such space. But he sees it anyway, the thing that has overgrown men act like kids caught stealing from a jar.

Merlin is slowly peeling off his garments after he’s kicked off his boots, exposing pale skin and a slim body by now. Percival knows it’s wrong, especially that they are knights now and knights are required to behave in a certain virtuous manner, and spying on a boy who is none other than Arthur’s servant, doesn’t exactly stand for that. But the excitement and thrill of just how wrong this is and the fear of getting caught piques his curiosity more and he-and certainly the other two knights too if the eager eyes were anything to go by- find themselves unable to take their eyes off of Merlin.

The feather-like touch of the crystal-white water on his ankle assures Merlin of the good temperature, so he slowly dives in feet first, trembling slightly when the water reaches his waist. He chuckles warmly and waves his hands across the surface, making small tides resonate away from his touch. It momentarily takes his mind off the sword that was forged in Kilgharrah’s breath and cast into the lake of Avalon only to be brought back by him and the dragon in order to defeat the immortal army. He thinks maybe a burden has been lifted off of his shoulder that he no longer has to carry Morgana’s secret along with his, and if he is a little more honest with himself, he is glad that everyone can finally see her for who she really is.

Back at the ancient kings’ round-table, Arthur grows anxious and he has only one target on which he occasionally lays his frustration on, but he doesn’t seem to be loitering around as he always is. Arthur pushes off to his feet and looks around, “has anyone seen merlin? A meal for eight people is not going to prepare itself!”

Only owlish eyes look up at him in response, but Arthur soon notices the three men jammed to the window with no apparent reason, so he walks up to them in confident strides. “You seem engrossed in something, mind telling me?”

The three men jolt upright and instantaneously spin around on their heels, their hauberks jingling in the process.

Arthur can’t help but raise a questioning brow at their act.

The three men look at each other and back at the prince, chuckling nervously and fumbling with their sword belt.

“Sire.” Lancelot starts, but he bites down his words when Arthur tries to steal a glance through the window, but the three muscled men make for a great defensive wall.

“Your highness.” Percival puffs out his chest with all the respect he can muster giving the circumstances, because he knows that spying on the prince’s servant as he bathes does not really leave any good impressions, “it seems your servant takes well to remote sites, I do not know if it is brave or plain stupidity.”

“He is currently immersing in some ‘me’ time.” Gwaine offers with a vague smile.

It manages to make whatever strings of patience Arthur still has finally snap as he pushes forward and the three men naturally allow him the space he so much needs, and when he peers through the window with two fuming eyes, he sees Merlin embracing the water inside the pond fountain, and although his back is the only thing Arthur sees, it changes something about the look in his eyes, and the knights can see it, too. They can see how Arthur’s fists clench beside his side hips, how his Adam apple bobs up and down when he gulps noisily, and how his eyes take the shape of keen yearning, and they are men, they know from experience that that look is not a look of a prince to his common servant, but something more, something even they can’t define. But they inwardly decide that they have broken enough limits as it is, and maybe they should turn a blind eye on this because they can’t interfere with that which they cannot comprehend.

Arthur shakes himself out of his thoughts physically, his hands darting forward to the window’s shutter handle, shoving it with apparent force that makes everyone inside, including Gaius who can’t even hear well from that far, jolt vigorously. He swivels around very slowly, clearing his throat as he eyes the three men, a small indication-barely visible really- of malice and a twinge of jealousy twirls deep within his sky-blue eyes. “Gentlemen,” he says between gritted teeth, “let us discuss the future of Camelot.”

It’s only then that it dawns on the three men that they have officially overstepped their boundaries. So they acquiesce to the prince’s hints, pulling away from the place, and by doing so, leaving Merlin the privacy he so much desires.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are love.


End file.
